


Gone Sailing

by sunniskies



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective!Louis, Scared!Harry, idk they try to go sailing, it doesn't turn out well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 04:58:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunniskies/pseuds/sunniskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis had really just wanted to take Harry out for a romantic day on the ocean, not scare him senseless. He doesn't understand why these sort of things always happen to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone Sailing

In Louis’ defense, it had sounded like a great idea. He’d wanted to do something special for Harry while they were in Spain, so he’d booked them a romantic day on a small sailboat. He’d pictured them lightly drifting off the coast in the afternoon sun, slowly dropping plush grapes into each others mouths half-naked. Ok maybe the image of Harry in a toga slathering body oil all over his bronze skin wasn’t gonna happen, but he had thought things would turn out a _bit_ better than they had.

By the time they were a few miles offshore, they had both discovered that Harry was terrified of sailing. It would have been nice to have this knowledge before they were being bucked by currents somewhere in the Atlantic, the guy Louis had hired to drive the boat grinning wide and yelling “This wind is fantastic!”. Louis figured he was either very stupid and/or blind because he clearly wasn't senstive the way Harry had gone all paper-white and was clutching to Louis like he was about to be thrown overboard while the boat keeled from side to side. It was almost comedic, really, the huge scared orbs Harry’s green eyes had widened into, his face a dictionary definition of fear. Louis ordered the guy to turn around as soon as it was clear Harry was preparing for his imminent death, but he’d yelled that it was going to take them a while to get back because of the wind’s direction. This did not please Louis.

He supposes it’s not the _worst_ date idea he’s ever had. That would probably still be when Louis took Harry to a French restaurant whose reviews conveniently neglected to mention they liked to maintain their commitment to fresh seafood by murdering lobsters in front of your boyfriend. The waiter had brought the wiggling crustacean over dramatically, and Harry had actually reached out to fucking _pet_ it on it’s tentacles or something, but before Louis could realize what was happening the guy dug a knife in it’s back with a flourish. Louis had ushered a hysterical Harry from the restaurant hastily, who was sobbing incoherently about the terrified last look on the lobster's face. Louis learned some valuable lessons from that traumatic experience, like it was in fact possible for every restaurant goer to send him death glares as if he’d willingly _wanted_ Harry to start bawling, and that the Society for Humane Treatment of Lobsters is a real thing (Harry still donates bi-annually).

Harry tightens his death grip on Louis hand when the boat rocks precariously to the left side, the captain laughing maniacally like it’s the best day of his life. Louis considers throwing him overboard. “Hey at least you’re not as scared as you were when we saw those tarantulas in Australia,” he jokes lightly, and _shit_ ,  Louis thinks he might actually be the stupidest person to ever live. He hadn’t thought it was possible for Harry to look more panicked but his eyes open an extra inch and whatever remaining color there was in his face drains away. “Do you think there are spiders like that in Spain?” Harry whispers dramatically, and actually turns to look around the boat frantically. Louis considers throwing himself overboard.

Louis stews over his inability to say anything useful, ever, for a few moments, but then is pulled back to reality when the curly haired boy next to him whimpers pathetically as they’re hit by a ridiculous gust of wind and sway dangerously to the side again. Suddenly Louis’ protective mode is engaged (Liam likes to call it Louis’ mama bear side; Louis likes to punch him in the balls), and he wraps a warm arm around Harry’s shoulders, tucking him into his chest.

“Hey, hey, shhh baby, it’s okay,” he mumurms  in that soft voice he only uses with Harry. Somewhere over their three years together Harry’s happiness became entertiwned with his own happiness (okay, Harry’s happiness _is_ his happiness, as pathetic as it sounds), so it tears him up to see Harry all pale and shaking next to him. He pulls Harry’s head to his chest and strokes through his curls gently, racking his brain for how best to comfort him.

“Hey, Hazza?” Louis says finally, tipping his trembling face to his with a finger. Harry looks up at him through his dark lashes and Louis actually sucks in a breath because he’s still to this day floored by the effect of Harry’s emerald eyes. He collects his thoughts though, focusing on the more important task of calming Harry down. “Remember when I took you on that rollercoaster, and you were scared like this? Remember what I said to you?”

Harry gazes up at him, sort of looking like a newborn kitten with those wide eyes, and whispers, “You said you’d never let anything happen to me.”

Louis leans down to kiss him gently, and levels his eyes with Harry’s. “Babe, I’m never ever going to let anything happen to you, alright?”

Harry nods slowly, and Louis thinks maybe he sees something in his face finally relax a bit. He cuddles Harry back up to his chest, massaging his shoulders gently. Thankfully they make it back to shore without too many more upsets, and Louis holding Harry tight the whole way. They head straight back to the hotel and Louis pulls Harry into bed with him, knowing how exhausted he is from the frantic trip. Facing each other, they curl up under the sheets together, Harry’s arms around Louis’ waist, Louis tucking a leg between Harry’s so they can lay without any space left between them.

“I think you should stop planning our dates,” Harry says quietly, and Louis pretends to be affronted as a cheeky smile finally rises in Harry’s face. Louis kisses his dimples, realizing how much he’s missed the familiar dents all day.

“Oh shut up, you,” he grumbles, but kisses Harry long and sweetly, delighted to see the color returning to his cheeks. They order room service and spend the rest of the afternoon on the terrace, feeding each other chocolate covered strawberries and laughing about the crazy boat captain. As Louis watches Harry slowly lick the chocolate from his pink lips, he thinks maybe he will stop trying to plan dates after all.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this made you giggle a bit.  
> Please come visit my tumblr :) xx [foreverhazboo](http://www.foreverhazboo.tumblr.com)


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